


What Is Seen and What Is- Carol Sees

by TWDObsessive



Series: What Is Seen and What Is. [3]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Betting on sexual positions, Carol is kinda snarky, Footsies, M/M, POV Carol, POV First Person, Rickyl, Rickyl Writers' Group, top/bottom debate, wrong foot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:00:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part Three of the <em>What Is Seen and What Is</em> series.  Rick and Daryl come down to dinner after 45 minutes alone in Rick's bedroom after their first kiss.  Told from Carol's point of view.  Lots of snark and sarcasm.  Mostly just a night around the dinner table with most of the family and Rick and Daryl thinking they are totally subtle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Is Seen and What Is- Carol Sees

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd and uncontrollably snarky. Mostly just an experiment in writing other POVs.

These people are idiots. And I don't just mean the Alexandrians. I mean Maggie trying to be an _understudy_ to Deanna. I mean Michonne playing cop. I mean Morgan muttering about all life being precious. Idiots.

I know once upon a time I was just as damn dumb. Let Ed hurt me. Hurt… everything. But that was a long time ago. That was a different world and a different Carol. Now I do what I have to do and frankly, I can’t understand why anyone left isn't the same way. 

So I lay low and I make my casseroles and I do my subtle recon on these people because I don't trust a damn one of them. I trust MY family. The people in this house. Even the idiots like Eugene with his complete uselessness and Sasha with her death wish. And the two moron’s upstairs finally doing it after eye-fucking each other for almost a year. 

Lets face it. Even the dead could see the chemistry between Rick and Daryl. So catching them upstairs didn't really phase me. I'm happy for them. I am. There was a time, a version of myself during my...transition, where I might have been jealous in a sense. I was close with Daryl. This is another thing that is clear and known. He was there at a time when I needed his strength. He was there at a time when Ed was not. Not that I'm complaining about the loss of Ed. This Carol. The Carol I am now? Would have torchered that man slowly, keeping him alive just long enough to inflict the most intolerable pain I could imagine. And I’m very imaginative.

I like who I am now. Life would have been a lot damn different if I'd have arrived at this point before the end of the world. But regardless, now I have everything I need. I _am_ everything I need. I'm the one keeping the family safe, not hiding away in the middle of them anymore like a lost lamb.

But I know Rick and Daryl. And they need more. They need more to be content with themselves so I'm all for their happiness. But it better not fuck up our main goals. You know, drawing breath each day. Surviving.

Rick and I had our hiccups. And we forgave each other. We both had done things back at the prison that we thought was best, that may or may not have been. But what that reminds me is that Rick _wants_ to do the right thing. To be the good guy. And frankly, he's been losing his shit again lately and maybe a good lay will fix that.

The buzzer went off for the casserole. I like to keep my disguise on as a second skin, so I go ahead making casseroles and washing laundry even in the cover of the family home we've been given. I'd rather be here playing Suzie home-maker than over at the pantry with all the Alexandrian hens, bitching about paprika and being ungrateful for everything. 

Most of the family were already seated in chairs around the large kitchen table. "Hollar up there for Rick and Daryl," I murmured to Glenn. And as everyone does now, he immediately proceeded to do as I said. I straightened my flowered cardigan and sat at my spot around the table.

When Rick and Daryl sauntered in they reeked of sex. I mean, even 45 minutes of a garlicky casserole baking 2 feet from where I sat couldn't hide the smell. Their two side-by-side seats were open because even before they were fucking, which must have just started today, they always sat close enough to touch shoulders.

Daryl’s hair was a damn mess. I mean worse than normal and that’s pretty bad. Rick’s shoulders were relaxed for the first time since we walked through the gates. They both wore dopey grins that every damn one of us noticed. I looked to Michonne and we both eye-rolled hard. 

"Where you guys been," she asked. And I stifled a smile. She knew. We ALL freaking knew.

"Nowhere," Daryl mumbled at the same time Rick said "Upstairs."

"What were you doing all that time?" Tara asked as she bit a chunk out of a homemade piece of bread. 

"Nothing," Daryl mumbled at the same time Rick said "Putting away laundry."

"Lot of laundry to put away today?" I asked with a lifted brow.

Daryl turned to Rick on that one and our fearless leader shoved a giant forkful of casserole in his mouth, holding up a finger so he could chew before he answered.

After he swallowed and drank half a glass of water, he said, "We were, like, putting stuff and thangs away."

"What kinda things?" Maggie asked, grinning ear-to-ear and giving me a quick wink.

I felt a socked foot rub up against my ankle. All slow and caressing.

"Rick, honey. That's my foot. Not Daryl's."

"I was just stretching my legs," he said defensively as he stabbed at a mushroom from Daryl's plate.

"Eating off each others plates now? Is this a new thing?" Maggie asked.

"I don't like mushrooms," Daryl mumbled at the same time Rick said "He don't like mushrooms."

I looked around the table to check for the age appropriateness of where this conversation might be going. Rosita had Judith on her lap but she wasn't the set of ears I was concerned with. "Where's Carl?" I asked.

"Having dinner at Ron's with the other kids. Are you insinuating that my... recent efforts to put laundry away is making me a bad father?"

He had some tone to it, but one look from me made him shift back into his seat a bit. The castration threats had been doing wonders for getting shit handled around here.

"Sooo.... I wanna know who is in charge of putting things in the _bottom_ drawer. You know, when you put all of Judith's two outfits away. For 45 minutes. Together." Tara said with a cocky grin.

Oh yeah, I thought. I totally forgot about the bet. Maggie came back the other day from a conversation with Aaron and she was more convinced than ever about something going on between Rick and Daryl. She wanted to bet, but no one would take it. We were all convinced they'd end up in bed together at some point, so the bet turned from 'will they or won’t they' into 'who would top and who would bottom'. I had two Snickers bars in on Rick bottoming. I already ate one. I'm fairly confident about my assessment and I didn't anticipate needing to pay up.

They needed this. Rick definitely did. He needed some kind of release after all the shooting and ranting and raving that he’s done since he’s been in town. He was tense. And all that tension was gone now that he and Daryl had figured themselves out. And Daryl? God, that guy is loyal. And he’s got an enormous heart and I don’t think he’s ever had anyone to give it to before. Their bodies were unconsciously leaning towards one another even just sitting here at dinner, all eyes and grins with each other. Even I had to admit it was pretty damn cute. Unpractical. But cute.

"Alright that's enough about top and bottom ... _drawers_. Can we please do something productive? I'm going on a run tomorrow any special requests?" Abraham interrupted, wiping food out of his mustache and then grabbing a pen to jot things down on a crumpled sheet of paper.

"I need a new grenade launcher," I said plainly.

"A _what_?" He asked incredulously.

"Well I used my last one to save your sorry asses from being cannibalized. And I don't think there's a single one of us that believes Alexandria will hold forever. Woodbury didn't work. Terminus didn't work. The farm. The prison. The quarry. Something always happens. The reason we are all alive is because we are always prepared for the worst."

"Oohhh...K, then. One grenade launcher. Got it." He scribbled then looked around the room and pointed at Daryl. "Hairbrush," he said scribbling on his list, “Got it.”

Rick whispered into Daryl's ear, " I like it messy."

"You aren't a good whisperer, Rick,” Michonne said in a sarcastically loud whisper.

"Daryl are you wearing socks?" I asked as I felt a bare toe petting at the top of my foot.

"No," he answered with his little bashful grin as he pulled away, Rick giggling two seconds later after Daryl must have found his mark. God, I hope his aim outside the walls doesn't end up this bad.

He looked back up to me, all Dixon-serious. "Just so you know... I'm not wearing socks because I put mine away. In the top drawer. Cause the top drawer is mine. I put the things in the drawer."

There was groaning and chuckling. People reached into pockets and bags and tossed various pieces of candy around. Most of it came to me since the majority of the family was convinced it would go the other way around.

"Are you kidding me?" Rick asked. "You made _bets_ on that!?"

Glenn shrugged. "Sorry man. No TV. We get bored."

Eugene broke the silence around the table as he ripped open a Twix bar. 

“Eugene? You bet that I’d be the bottom guy?” Rick asked, lowering his voice for ‘bottom guy’ like it was cancer or something. 

“Calculating the odds of homosexual relationship dynamics is not within my skill set. I flipped a coin. That guaranteed me at least a 50/50 shot.”

“Should I be putting lube on this list?” Abraham asked, more to the group than to Rick or Daryl. 

Sasha and Maggie started talking at the same time and Tara started trying to barter with Eugene for the other half of his Twix. Glenn started shouting about how we should get more baby clothes for Judith. Which I cataloged in my head and darted eyes over to Maggie, trying to do some recon on her midsection. Michonne was talking nonstop about peanut butter granola bars and I started collecting empty plates. Rick stood quietly and grabbed Daryl’s hand and they slipped away from the table unnoticed and went back upstairs.

And I was happy for them. I'd find out more later. I knew Daryl would want to talk about this recent development and I was the only person other than Rick he truly confided in. So I will listen and I will be happy and supportive and I will kiss his forehead. And I will threaten to castrate him if his aim with the crossbow gets as bad as his aim playing footsies because fucking and kissing is fine as long as it doesn't interfere with staying alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... this one got a little out of control and there wasn't really any good Rickyl sweetness. I guess this was the comic relief. The intermission. Next is Daryl's POV then Eric's. Both of those should be sufficiently fluffy with Rickyl mushiness.


End file.
